Free Before Her Billionaires by Julia Kent Page B

throw some new D batteries in Ryan and get him going again.
    Too bad life didn’t work that way.
    One of h er cat s , Frumpy , rubbed against her legs and purred, the cool feel of the fur brushing against Laura’s ankles with a disjointed sensuality. Gently nudging the cat away, Laura padded into the kitchen, filled the kettle, turned it on and dug out a can of cat food.
    Miss Daisy and Snuggles decided to join in the food fest, making a mewling sound that made Laura laugh.
    “All right, all right, it’s coming,” she said, her voice cracking. Living alone meant not talking much when she wasn’t at work or hanging out with her best friend, and by the end of twelve hours of not saying a word, she found her vocal cords in need of a little stretch. On long weekends she could go all day without saying a word, making the return to work a bit uncomfortable, as if she had to relearn basic social cues all over again.  
    Laura fed the cat s , washed her hands, and set up the tea steeper, spooning her loose tea into the water reservoir. The kettle whistled at just the right mo m ent, she poured the water in for steeping and shut the top—
    And promptly burst into tears all over again. She was a single woman living alone with three cats, making tea in the middle of the night. This was not how her twenties were supposed to be.  
    Closing her eyes, she willed the dream to come back, to feel the sensual heat of those hands. In her mind’s eye she remembered the forearm that was attached to one of those loving hands, the sandy hair that peppered the tanned skin, the twist of muscle under the taut skin. It was a man’s arm, muscled and tight, with tendons and veins rigid and clear under textured skin.  
    We adore you .
    The man’s words whispered through her like the rush of hot wind on a summer’s night, right before a burst of sweet, steamy rain, the kind you run outside and play in, even as an adult. You tip your face to the dark, cloudy sky and let the misty rain blanket you like it’s love.
    She could feel the imprint of his palm on her thigh. If she weren’t firmly grounded in the world of logic, she’d think he was here. Right now, in another room in her small apartment, off to the bathroom or back in her tousled bed, waiting for her, warming the sheets and reclined in full, drawn-out nude beauty.
    Her hand reached down to touch the expanse of skin that burned from the memory of his touch. A laugh burbled out of her, unbidden and without any pretense. She snorted as her fingers brushed against her own creamy curves, her finger tips sliding from mid-thigh on up.
    Quickly, she yanked her nightgown down. Now she just burned with a stupid sense of shame, a cold chill making her shiver as the tea darkened in the clear plastic cylinder she used for steeping.
    What had she done to deserve a life where her only intimacy was her fingers, her battery-powered night-table boyfriends, her cat s and these all-consuming dreams? Dream men were fine and all, but they couldn’t bite your nipple at just the right time.
    He has to be real , she thought, the palpable change in her skin making her more certain than ever that whatever she had dreamed had been more than wishful thinking. He’s out there. He’s real.
    He has to be.
    Don’t you mean ‘they’ , a voice inside her hissed, the tri cks ter who made her doubt, made her insecure and self-deprecating, asked in a disapproving voice.
    They.
    The second man had appeared with such stealth, yet such prowess, that she blended the two together in her addled mind. They weren’t the same, though. Distinct and heavenly, they were two separate men. S he inhaled slowly, fingers curling around the e dg e of the kitchen counter, her breasts flushed with the memory of how all four hands on her had made her ache.
    In the dream, she’d known that ache would soon ease as they pleasured her to release. Too bad life didn’t imitate the movie Inception . If it did, she’d hire someone to hack